


Only Her

by Anonymous



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Lyra's World (His Dark Materials), Mating Cycles/In Heat, Not Canon Compliant, Parent/Child Incest, Pining, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Asriel gets his Heat at the worst possible time.
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Lyra Belacqua
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26
Collections: Anonymous





	Only Her

They don't live in a world of fairness or absolution. Childish ideals.

Asriel has put away his dreams for a grander purpose in life.

Nobody believes an Omega can carry the family name of Belacqua. He never was meant to be like this. Both of his parents came from an old noble linage of Alpha blood. His snow leopard daemon may have been large and sleek and powerful when he finally Settled on his true nature, but Asriel's body was chemically developing itself for an inferior rank and for the potential of breeding. Submission to others.

 _Weakness_. They called him _weak_.

Society deemed him useless, and Asriel proved them wrong with his research and military service and the fierce commanding behaviour he uses to dominate them. All of the Scholars and fool-hearted men… all those shadowy persons amassing the Holy Church… they should be fearful.

But not of him.

They should fear remaining here, lost, in a world of unquestioned obedience.

He will destroy that fear and its source.

But it takes time. Resources. Money and transportation and philosophical equipment of his own invention. Asriel visits Jordan College for eight to nine days, persuading a reluctant Master over drinks to set up an audience with their benefactors.

He's so distracted by his plans that Lyra seems to be an afterthought. She's infuriated by this, hurrying after Asriel to his tower-room.

_"-why not!?"_

Asriel stiffens his shoulders, listening to his daughter yelling at his back. He enters after a lowly growling Stelmaria, removing his jacket and not looking at Lyra storming up to him. She's as wild-tempered and mannerless as the previous year. Her brown hair growing well past Lyra's ears and in dire need of a combing. Dark brown eyes squinting up, bright with righteous anger.

"Why can't you take me North with you!?" Lyra yells again. She's so small. Thin and knobby-kneed. "You always say you will!"

"-because you are failing your remedial lessons with Charles," Asriel interrupts her, coolly, but his lips twitch into a snarling appearance. "That's why."

She fumes, crossing her arms, going quiet.

"Once you show more responsibility and care in your daily tasks, and without being spoiled, then I may consider bringing you with me on a short expedition." Something piercing, razor-hot in Asriel's throat and his gut, hits him. He shuts his eyes. "You lack diligence. You lack good sense."

Lyra scowls. "I en't need that!"

He glimpses Pantalaimon as a tawny-coloured hawk perching to Lyra's shoulder. His form screeches towards Asriel and Stelmaria who rumbles out a deep, warning noise. A now grumpy Pantalaimon fluffs himself, not screeching again.

She was born in an irregular time in Asriel's life, from the womb of a mother with a pure bloodline of Alphas. Purer than the Belacquas.

Marisa Coulter seduced a younger version of Asriel, many years ago, using what he assumed her womanly wiles, but it had been her inherently overpowering character. Her fragrant sugary sweet manipulation. Asriel did not mind it then. He was lonely. But he refused to succumb fully to her Alpha nature. Any lover who knew him in his bed never got to touch Asriel during an Omega Heat cycle. Even while regularly taking suppressors, he avoided every living person during that inconvenience.

The same piercing feeling returns, tearing him open, spilling heat.

 _Heat_.

Oh god.

Asriel recognises that slow constant burn inside him. He suddenly groans with lips closed, bracing a trembling and opening hand to his abdomen.

God, no.

No.

"You forgot…" Stelmaria murmurs, breathless herself.

One missed dosage. Asriel had been so preoccupied with hiring men, charting out a map to an unexplored Arctic region and fixing a broken generator… he ignored his last meal. And the reminder to take his suppression dosage. Knowing that he had a new cycle.

Idiot… he's an idiot, Asriel scolds himself. He lets out a faint growl-groan, noticing Lyra's confusion.

"Lyra," Asriel orders, panting. "Lyra, go find Thorold." When she doesn't move, he says louder, more aggressive, "Now."

She only stares quizzical by his table.

"Why? What's the matter?"

Asriel's teeth bare. The impertinence. He doesn't know where she gets it.

"Do not question m-mm… aah!" Asriel half-gasps and half-yowls, still holding his stomach. One of his hands spreads to his thigh. He's trembling all over. That feeling of Heat coursing down further his middle. Sweat dribbles off his brow. "A-ahh."

Lyra steps forward, nearly jolting over her own feet. "Lord Asriel?" she asks, clearly worried.

"S-stay there, child," Asriel says, wincing. There's no fighting it now. He can feel it worsening, flaring deep in his chest and his groin. If Asriel has to, he can ride it out alone without Thorold. Betas were good for lessening the harshness of these spells. It's partly why he employed Thorold for so long. Thorold's family is a result of a perfect Beta ancestry. "You… n-need to leave…"

"I don't understand…"

"Leave…"

"But you're hurt!" Lyra insists, her eyebrows furrowing. Pantalaimon turns into a mouse, scurrying into her blouse's pocket.

He doesn't want her to see him like this. He's her father. Lyra cannot, under any circumstances, see him _weak_ … vulnerable… needy, quivering and writhing and howling for release. Asriel doesn't know how much Mrs. Lonsdale educated her about this subject: how their bodies all work different… how intimacy can be fleeting or lasting for someone…

Stelmaria remains on the floor, cawling pitifully, resting herself into a curled-up position. At the noise, Pantalaimon's tiny creamy-red head peeks out. Asriel does as his daemon bids, lying sideways on the flat cot, gulping once for air.

"Lyra…"

Pain. Pain washes over him, numbing out the rest of his senses.

He groans, higher in pitch, rolling over, and would have rolled right onto the floorboards if not for Lyra.

Lyra, Lyra touching him, her little fingers catching onto Asriel's wrist. Skin-to-skin.

It happens so quickly.

Asriel's nostrils flare as he, too, catches something. A whiff of Alpha. Musk-odour. Familiar and heightening, thrilling his nerve-ends.

Her dark brown eyes go wide. Lyra can't smell herself, but Asriel. She feels whatever it is like a Heat of her own, sweeping endlessly. "No, no…" Asriel repeats lowly, stricken dumbfounded by his horror. "No no no, no, no…"

She can't.

_She can't be._

They stare at each other, frozen in place. Lyra's hand tightens, knuckling, until her fingernails dig into Asriel's flesh possessively. He thinks Lyra doesn't know what she's doing. She snaps out of it, blinking rapidly, but not moving. Pantalaimon already left her blouse's pocket, dazed and speechless. He forms into a reddish gold pine marten. Asriel realises he knows it.

"Lyra… you need to, aah, to leave right now…"

Her head shakes. Asriel wants to be furious, but he can barely manage to inhale. Every instinct in him begs for her, to reach for Lyra and submit and let her touch him again… he needs it… _needs her_ … needs Lyra to make him _hers_ …

"What's happening…?" Lyra asks in soft apprehension, her face reddening and covered in sweat.

_"Don't…"_

How could this happen? How can his Heat trigger her to finally present? And as an Alpha like his bloodline?

_"Please leave…"_

He's never begged. Not for a damn thing in his life, and Asriel's unable to control himself with her. His stubbornness melts. A hot rush of fluid squelches against his thick muscular thighs. He's resisting with every fiber of him, increasing the agony in his veins.

"I… I don't want to…" she mumbles.

Lyra's voice sounds so detached. Far away.

Asriel can sense it happening already. It's her Alpha instincts, whispering to Lyra, telling her to stay, to take care of him, to wreck him and pleasure him and use that willing, virile body for hours until she's been satiated.

"You need to fight it, hhah," Asriel rasps, clutching himself with both arms. He enveloped in Lyra's scent of warm summer air and the kitchens.

"You're not ready."

Her head feels too-full. Strange. Lyra bends over, moaning, pressing her hands to the sides. She hears him, but the words don't form that clarity. He does. Her cold, brave father. The man she's worshiped since Lyra was a child. Love, hate, _everything_.

"You're not…"

But it doesn't matter. Asriel sits up with difficulty, to repel her, to shove her away, only for Lyra to regain composure and saddle herself into his lap. Lyra's face nuzzles into his throat, rubbing with her forehead and cheeks and mouth. The hardness of Lyra's nose under his jaw. Strands of dark hair tickling. She's lost in him, Asriel's odour, his softness and slickness of perspiration. She pushes her warm and opening lips to Asriel's neck, like half-kisses, like tracing him into flesh-memory.

Her teeth pinch down lightly, covering him in her saliva, making him flush. Asriel feels himself squirming, grabbing fiercely onto Lyra's upper arms. "Stop," he commands, and it's more of a whine in his throat. "Aah, ah… no…" Everything spins. "Stop, no…"

Lyra pulls away slowly, mouth pink-swollen and wet. Her irises swallowed up by her pupils.

" _No_ …" she repeats, quiet as the winds.

_"No…"_

One of her hands thrusts into Asriel's hair, petting him.

" _No_ …"

Her mouth hovers against his. Like she's more heat than an actual presence. He shudders, opening his mouth, grazing his tongue to his bottom lip. Asriel chases after her lips, inclining his head when Lyra leans out, mesmorised and smiling at him.

Her other hand fists into Asriel's dark blue sweater, yanking him. Her expression still distant, but faintly reassuring.

It's not Lyra.

Or maybe she is. This is his Lyra, unburdened, ravaging and destroying his walls. All of the walls he built to keep Lyra out.

That's when she grinds herself on his lap, causing Asriel to moan and throw his head backwards.

God, god have mercy. She shouldn't feel this good.

Lyra rubs her little arse on his crotch, delighted by his full-bodied twitches. Lyra's fingers grip into his hair, yanking him forward and urging him to look. He's about as far gone as her. Their eyes blown-black, their faces flushed.

" _Hhah_ , _uhh_ ," Asriel moans, whimpering and teary-eyed. He's helpless to the rut of Lyra's skinny frame on him. "AAH-!"

Lyra's hips gyrate. She's too young. She's never known how to make love, and she shouldn't. A bleary-eyed Asriel holds her hips, steadying her. His cock stiffens, hard and heavy and trapped within his clothes, nudging against Lyra when she lifts up, his hips following. She's barely weighs anything, lowering down on him, but Asriel feels pinned in place by her. All of her. He sobs out Lyra's name, at her mercy, under her control as her Omega. He's hers. He's always been hers.

As soon as it began, they're done. Asriel howls out, shoving Lyra's childishly thin hips into his, feeling her warmth, and peaking. Lyra's mouth opens to his temple, going round. A soft, heaving cry leaves her. He nearly collapses from orgasmic stimulation.

The urge to have something inside him, to be bred, fades in the presence of a new young Alpha. Thank god.

"Lyra," Asriel whispers, catching his breath. He's a bit steadier. Pensive. His thumb strokes gently over her pink-flushed and sweaty cheek. She doesn't say anything, hugging her arms to Asriel's neck, feeling like a deadweight. "Lyra, you need to breathe…"

" _Hnn_ …"

He shifts Lyra's arms off him, cradling her upright. Asriel's hands on her waist. "It's alright…" Asriel whispers again. "Talk to me…"

She's less lost. Lyra appears humiliated, turning a darker red and stunned silent for once in her life.

"Lyra…"

"What did… I do…"

"It's over," Asriel tells her, voice hoarse, now cradling her face. Lyra's next breath hiccups. "It's alright now, hush… you're alright." He doesn't feel the Heat on him any longer, or the scent of Alpha wishing to make a mess of him, claim him. Despite what they've done… or ruined between them… Asriel knows it would be her now. Only her to see him in ruins.

Only her.


End file.
